HNYWEF -Chapter 160 Piecing Together

The Ministry of Works council hall.

Zhou Xiong sat behind his desk, head lowered, fiddling with the things in his hands.

Two piles of objects lay spread across the table.

On the left were several small iron pieces, each about the size of a fingernail. They came in different shapes and sizes — seven pieces in total.

On the right was a pile of tiny wooden blocks, mortises and tenons everywhere, densely scattered across the tabletop.

With his left hand, he moved the iron pieces around on the desk.

He assembled them into a square.

Wrong.

He scattered them apart and rearranged them.

This time, they formed the shape of a person.

He stared at the figure for a while, then broke it apart again.

His right hand was not idle either. He picked two wooden pieces from the pile, held them up against the light to inspect the joints, then fitted them together.

Click.

Locked in place.

He set the assembled pair aside and reached for the next piece.

Several other clerks were also in the council hall, each busy with their own work.

Someone occasionally glanced toward Zhou Xiong before lowering their head again and continuing.

They were used to it.

When the Marquis was not forging iron, he liked to fiddle with little gadgets like these.

Back when he first arrived, some people had even gone over to ask what they were.

The Marquis said this one was called a tangram, and that one building blocks.

Tangram? Building blocks?

Nobody understood what those were, but if the Marquis said so, then so be it.

In any case, he clearly enjoyed it. He could sit there for ages, arranging pieces on the left and fitting parts together on the right, brows furrowed so tightly they could pinch a fly to death, looking as though he were fighting a war.

Eventually, nobody asked anymore.

Let him fiddle around. It was not hurting anyone.

Zhou Xiong formed another shape with the pieces. This time it looked like a bird.

He looked at it twice, apparently dissatisfied, swept his hand across the table, and scattered it apart again.

He picked up one of the assembled wooden blocks and continued building upward.

Footsteps sounded from outside.

Zhou Xiong did not look up.

Someone entered the council hall, bringing a gust of cold air with him. The clerks raised their heads, recognized the visitor, and hurriedly stood to salute.

“Master Yan.”

Now serving as Director-General of Construction, Yan Lide waved a hand, signaling them to continue working.

He walked to Zhou Xiong’s desk and stopped.

Zhou Xiong still did not look up.

Yan Lide was not in a hurry either. He simply stood there watching him fiddle with the pieces.

After a while, he spoke.

“Marquis Zhou.”

Only then did Zhou Xiong raise his head.

He looked at Yan Lide expressionlessly.

Yan Lide said, “His Majesty plans to renovate Luoyang Palace. He asked me to see whether you want to go.”

Zhou Xiong said nothing.

He simply stared at Yan Lide without moving.

His eyes were fixed straight ahead.

The stare made Yan Lide’s scalp tingle a little.

There was a vacant dullness in that gaze.

He knew about Zhou Xiong’s condition — sometimes he was fine and could speak normally, and other times… no one knew what might come out of his mouth.

So was this a good spell or a bad one?

Yan Lide honestly could not tell.

He quickly added another sentence.

“I’m only asking, not assigning you. If you don’t want to go, I’ll refuse on your behalf.”

Zhou Xiong still did not move.

Still just stared at him.

Standing there, Yan Lide suddenly regretted coming personally.

Wouldn’t it have been better to send someone else to deliver the message?

Just as he was wondering how to gracefully retreat—

Zhou Xiong suddenly laughed.

Not the eerie kind of laugh.

A real laugh, his eyes curving as he smiled.

“Me?”

He pointed at his own nose.

“You sure you didn’t get this mixed up? I’m just a blacksmith, and you want me to go repair a palace?”

Yan Lide froze.

Zhou Xiong laughed even harder, shoulders shaking.

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

Yan Lide stood there watching him laugh.

As he watched, he himself started laughing too.

A helpless, relieved sort of laugh.

He shook his head.

“That’s true.”

He turned and walked toward the door.

After two steps, he suddenly stopped.

Turning back, he glanced over once more.

Zhou Xiong had already lowered his head again, returning to the pile of little objects.

His left hand arranged the iron pieces on the desk while his right fitted wooden blocks onto the assembled structure.

There was no expression on his face.

As though that burst of laughter had never happened at all.

Yan Lide stood there for a breath.

Then he turned, pushed the door open, and left.

Cold wind poured in, making the charcoal fire flicker.

The clerks raised their heads and exchanged glances.

No one spoke.

They lowered their heads again and continued working.

Behind the desk, Zhou Xiong assembled another shape from the seven iron pieces. This one looked more pleasing to the eye, so he did not scatter it apart and simply left it at the corner of the desk.

With his right hand, he picked up another wooden block, aligned the joint, and fitted it onto the assembled structure.

Click.

Locked in place again.

He watched it for a while, nudged the completed stack to the side, and reached for the next piece.

The council hall was very quiet.

Only the soft crackling of charcoal.

And, from time to time, the sound of wooden mortise-and-tenon joints fitting together.